The title of this post is taken from one of my all time favorite shows, but the twist is, I'm fighting with myself this Friday night. Friday nights tend to be a difficult night for me for many reasons. First of all, it's the last night of a three night stretch at home alone while my dear husband works night shift. Friday night is also when I actually make a conscience effort to decompress and set aside a long week of emotional interactions with clients. This last piece is an important component to working in my field, however, of late it has caused more problems than it has solved. The problem is that I am very good at controlling my own emotions throughout the week by burying them underneath the responsibilities of work, home, family, friends, volunteerism, and so much more. I like being busy, I like being involved, but Friday nights are my night at home, alone, which is a problem for my brain.
So, at this point you are wondering what this gigantic emotional struggle is I keep eluding too, right? It's difficult for me to put it all in to words. In fact, I have been debating whether or not to begin this writing journey for over a month now. Writing has always been an important emotional outlet for me, but simply writing privately has not been enough for me in this situation. However, I haven't been ready to write publicly either. But now, as another Friday night has rolled around, I cannot keep it all inside any longer.
The journey began about 13 months ago. It seemed so simple, so natural, and so standard at first. Go to the doctor, get a check up, get advice, ask questions, begin the process of conceiving your first child. Happens every day right? It does. But what was to come in the following months was unpredictable, unfathomable until you are actually in it. It starts off with high hopes, a little attentiveness, and just a couple negative pregnancy tests. No big deal, just getting into the swing of things and all of your friends told you it took them a few months to conceive. You continue on, disappointed it hasn't happened yet, but knowing it will be here right around the corner. You start planning out the future in your head. You imagine telling your family and your close friends the amazing news. You start imagining the nursery and how you want to decorate. You can't help but notice every baby, young child, and family around you. You start taking in more parenting advice, listening for names you like, and adjusting your own schedule in order to prepare for the life changes ahead. You can't help yourself, you've flipped the switch, you cannot wait to be a mother!
But reality starts to settle in around the fifth month. You start running through the negative thoughts: what's wrong with me? how do we fix this? how long will it take? what will we have to go through? what if we can never get pregnant? where do we start? Then you start taking action. The doctor's appointments seem endless, the answers are never quite enough, and hope hangs by a thread every 4 weeks.
Every 4 weeks... That's literally how I measure my life now. It's exhausting.
I'm constantly battling within myself between hope and defeat. This manifests both internally and externally and has caused many issues in my personal and professional life. My goal in making this journey public is to explore the challenges of mental, emotional, and physical health. To start a discussion for women who feel alone and isolated in this process. To encourage, process, and educate both myself and others. I seek to be a social advocate in my professional life and I think it's time that I do the same in my personal life as well. I know that many people face isolating struggles in their life whether specifically related to infertility or not and I hope that this exploration can encourage many that they are not alone.
I have a million thoughts that I want to share with you all, but I think this is a good start. I plan to take this slow and work through this as we go. I look forward to the journey ahead.
